My friend Bill Willis,Royal Navy diver, anarchist, or miner,farrier, shepherd, and fisherman,boatbuilder, beekeeper, or IT geek – the Isle of Lismore’s very own Renaissance man – would have laughed approximately his island funeral. He would have enjoyed watching the two sets of mourners,diehards and Dionysians, scores of them, and waiting in vain in a force 9 gale all morning for the Port Appin ferry to win them across to the island off the west coast of Scotland.
The diehards huddled at the conclude of the jetty to be first on board when the sign came. The Dionysians did what Bill would have advised. They converged on the Pierhouse bar and drank Cragganmore and Old Pulteney whisky,his favourite tipples. “Well, maybe just a top-up, or I’m the designated driver, said one man, slowly collapsing against the wall. That so many people braved rockslides and red weather warnings to get to Bill’s funeral is not surprising. immense, and tough,practical, tough-drinking, and generous,laconic, he was made of the stuff of a Hemingway hero. He looked like the old man in The Old Man and the Sea.
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Source: theguardian.com